


Tell Me Why

by LibbyWrites



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [7]
Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Casual Sex, Drabble, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, M/M, Miscommunication, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 11:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10189277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibbyWrites/pseuds/LibbyWrites
Summary: It was supposed to be just sex, but things don't always work Liam's way.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I decided to upload all my Tumblr drabbles on AO3 to have them all together in one place.
> 
> This is Drabble #07, requested by a very lovely anon. The prompt was "Imagine your OTP getting in a fight and one of them yelling that they love the other one and then it gets really quiet." 
> 
> [Here](http://elerinwen.tumblr.com/post/150646367225/hi-libby-i-really-enjoy-your-writing-and-i) is the original Tumblr post in case you want to check it out and [here](http://elerinwen.tumblr.com/ask) is my ask box in case you want to request something. (My prompt lists are over [here](http://elerinwen.tumblr.com/tagged/prompts)).
> 
> Thanks for reading and please leave comments or kudos if you liked it!

Thirty-seven days, eight hours. Ten bottles of vodka. Twelve tubs of rocky road ice cream. Innumerable tears. One failed, awful, desperate date with another man to try to forget him. Thirty-fucking-seven days, eight hours, and all of those things had happened since the last time Liam stood at this same door.

Back then, Zayn’s unlocked patio door had been a blessing. He didn’t need a key to sneak into his house every time Zayn called him. Now he loathed it. He wished there was something blocking him on his path to self-destruction. He didn’t even need a big hurdle, a locked door would suffice. No such luck, though.

The drunken texts he had received from Zayn earlier that day still burned in his mind as he slid the door open carefully. It wasn’t the first time he got this kind of messages, so that wasn’t really the problem. The problem was Zayn had stopped trying weeks ago. The problem was the nuances, the things Liam read between the lines, the desperate, pleading tone of Zayn’s words. Liam tried to convince himself that the only reason he was here again after successfully ignoring Zayn for such a long time was simply to make sure he was okay, and maybe because he owed him some kind of explanation. No sex. No touching. No nothing. Not again. Just talking.

He was surprised to find Zayn’s house submerged in darkness, most of his lights off. He thought he was going to find a very drunk, noisy Zayn waiting for him, wearing nothing but a smirk on his lips, like he used to do. That same smirk Liam knew so well, because it meant Zayn knew he owned Liam. Liam hated that smirk.

Instead, after some searching around a strangely very messy house, he found a different kind of drunk Zayn in his even messier bedroom. A Zayn he had never seen before. He was asleep, with his clothes still on, on top of his still made bed. He was still holding a bottle of Jack Daniels with one hand, his body curled up around it. His other hand was clutched around his cellphone. The low light from his night lamp bathed him in gold, making him look younger, smaller. Sadder. Which made absolutely no sense. Zayn was never sad. Zayn was the life of the party. Liam was probably just making stuff up in his head, seeing what his stupid brain wanted him to see. Making him believe maybe Zayn missed him just as much as he missed Zayn. Pathetic. Over a month, and not one phone call. Yeah, Zayn missed him alright.

He stood there for a minute, just watching Zayn sleep, watching the soft lines of his face, disrupted only by a little frown between his eyebrows. It took all of Liam’s self-restraint not to bend down to kiss that frown away. God… Zayn was so beautiful Liam’s heart was in actual pain. He was everything Liam ever wanted, everything. He was ridiculously fun, he was actually hilarious. He was unbelievably smart, he was brilliant, actually; Liam could spend hours just hearing him talk about anything. He wasn’t even a tenth of the jerk everyone thought he was, god no, he was actually sweet and caring, he was even careful and almost delicate every time he touched Liam. He was one of the few people patient enough to hear Liam ramble about his own problems, getting lost in his own head. He was also the only person that knew exactly how to make his mind stop every time he started overthinking things. He was gorgeous, so gorgeous it knocked the air out of Liam’s lungs, every corner of his body was a masterpiece Liam spent four months exploring, mapping, getting familiar with. He was the best lover Liam ever had. No one touched him like Zayn, no one made him come like Zayn, no one shared that overwhelming chemistry with him, no one turned Liam into a babbling mess with just one look and a few words. Liam lost count of the things he learned about sex and his own body and pleasure in general just by being intimate with this one man. Zayn was indisputably the love of Liam’s life.

And yet, he stood there, looking at the most amazing man in the world, and all he wanted was to run away. Because what they had was just sex. Because they made that clear from the beginning, and at first Liam thought that would be a brilliant idea, he thought he could do that, having “just sex” with a man like Zayn, back when all Zayn was to him was a hot guy he met at the gym. It worked for a while. It was fun and hot, calling each other every time they wanted to get off, no strings attached, no responsibilities, no explanations. And then, almost by accident, he started sharing with Zayn more than just sex. They started having actual conversations between one orgasm and the other, they shared beers and videogames and movies, they shared looks and kisses and words and Liam tried to convince himself that it meant nothing. The little touches he found himself sharing with Zayn were maybe just that he was used to being sweet with every boyfriend he had, it was muscle memory, nothing more. Maybe Zayn was just kind enough to indulge him, even if it meant nothing, even though he probably shared the same things with other people when they weren’t together. Liam tried hard to believe that it meant nothing to him too, until he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. And that’s when he bailed.

Zayn got the message pretty quickly. A week after Liam stopped responding to his messages, he stopped writing. At some point Liam thought Zayn would not give up, that what they had was more than just sex for Zayn too, but no. That didn’t happen. Of course it didn’t. They were nothing. Not even friends, really, right? Not even exclusive, Liam was pretty sure Zayn fucked with whoever he pleased, that was the way he liked it. No strings attached, casual sex, having fun. He even told Liam he should do the same. He didn’t even bat an eyelash when Liam, desperate to get a reaction, lied and told him he had a date. It was a lost cause.

And that just made the desperate messages he received from Zayn burn hotter in his mind. That made this vulnerable, sad looking Zayn make no sense at all. That made what he was doing a big, big mistake. “Fuck…” he muttered, and he turned around, ready to leave. What the fuck did he even think he was going to accomplish with this? This was masochism. Nothing else. This was potentially catastrophic.

Just as he finally tore himself away from the bed, he heard Zayn’s voice. “Don’t. Stay…” it was barely above a whisper but it was like a scream in Liam’s head, loud enough to make him freeze. Dammit.

Liam barely turned around to speak over his shoulder. “I gotta go. This was a mistake.” His words sounded stupid and pathetic. Who was he trying to convince, Zayn or himself?

Liam shook his head and began walking again. Zayn would be okay, right? This was nothing. Probably he was just drunk and horny and he decided to booty call him again because he didn’t feel like going out to find some stranger to sleep with. Liam was always an easy choice, right? “Liam…” His name sounded broken on Zayn’s lips. “Can you at least tell me why?”

What did that even mean? Liam frowned, not even turning around this time. “Why what?” he asked, feeling his heart beat faster and faster the longer he spent in Zayn’s presence. This was the stupidest idea he ever had. Stupider than letting Zayn take him home that first time.

“Why… Why did we…” Liam heard a frustrated sigh and the bed creaked. Zayn was moving. Fuck. “We were so good… Why did you leave me like that?”

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god… Liam’s heart broke in a hundred pieces. This was so unfair. Zayn was talking like they actually had something he walked away from. They had nothing. What the fuck. What the fucking fuck. What was he supposed to say to that? “I um…” he pictured himself running away without answering. That would be fantastic, not having to look at Zayn ever again. But that was not a choice, was it? He ran away without an explanation once, he couldn’t do it again. He had to say something, even if it was just an excuse, a lie. “It stopped working for me. I just couldn’t do it anymore, okay?” Liam mumbled, finally turning around to look at Zayn. He was sitting on the side of the bed, the bottle and the cellphone forgotten on the pillow, his head in his hands. Fuck. He looked so… So tiny. So sad. All Liam wanted to do was hold him, just fucking hold him, and that just wasn’t an option. They never hugged. Never really kissed if it wasn’t meant to lead to sex. Maybe that’s what he wanted. Maybe he was sad about something and he wanted to have sex to forget about that. This wasn’t about seeking comfort in Liam’s arms. This wasn’t about having missed him. It was fucking painful. The weight of that realization crushed him and he just hoped Zayn would be satisfied with that answer. He had to go. He really did. This hurt too much.

“That’s not an answer,” Zayn whispered, maybe to himself but loud enough for Liam to hear. “Was it something I did? Something I said? Just… please tell me?” Zayn pleaded, a sad, desperate tone in his words.

Liam crossed his arms, maybe unconsciously protecting his heart. This made no sense. “You did nothing wrong, Zayn, god… It’s not your fault…” much on the contrary, the problem was Zayn did everything right, everything perfectly right. So right Liam had no choice in the matter. He fell in love with a guy he was supposed to just have sex with. And now he had to leave.

“Then why? I need to understand…” Zayn asked, his tone so broken and demanding it nailed Liam’s feet to the floor. Why the hell did it matter? Why did he care? It wasn’t like his life stopped the day Liam left, right? Liam was just another guy he fucked. He had plenty more. And still, he was demanding an explanation. Fuck. Liam hoped he could get away with a lie, an excuse, but that wasn’t gonna cut it, was it? Maybe Zayn needed to hear the truth. Maybe Zayn would finally understand what happened if Liam just told him the truth. Maybe that would scare him enough and he would finally let Liam go.

Liam sighed, defeated. “You’re not gonna stop until I spell it out, are ya?” he asked. Zayn was stubborn. It took him a month to get into Liam’s pants and he never stopped insisting until he got what he wanted. It wouldn’t be different now, would it? Liam looked up to the ceiling, trying to deal with what he knew he had to do. He thought the next time he met someone that deserved these words, he would get a beautiful, romantic moment, worthy of that confession. On his most pathetic nights, he even imagined himself saying them to Zayn, looking into his eyes, laying in his arms. He masochistically imagined Zayn saying them back, kissing him until they couldn’t breathe, finally making love instead of having sex. He imagined a magical moment, a beautiful, mutual confession. Instead, he got this. “Because I fell in love with you, okay? Are you happy? Can I leave now?” He talked fast, looking at the ceiling instead of into Zayn’s eyes, spitting the words like poison, confessing them like a sin. He felt like crying. He was using those words to drive Zayn away from him, instead of bringing him closer. Fuck.

“No, I’m not,” Zayn replied, his voice slicing the air between them. Liam looked at him again, confused, blinking fast, trying to keep those stupid tears at bay, praying Zayn wouldn’t notice he was about to cry. Zayn was looking at him, but he didn’t look annoyed, or amused, or even scared. There was fire in his eyes. He looked angry. He looked terrifyingly angry. “Do I look happy? What the fuck, Liam?” Zayn stood up, walking a few steps towards him. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck does that even mean, huh? You fell in love with me and you left? Why? I don’t get it!” he yelled, loud, making Liam wrap his arms tighter around himself.

What was even happening here? What was Zayn accusing him of? Not staying? Falling in love? Fuck. “You told me…” Liam started, clearing his throat. He needed to make this clear, even if it should be already. It was Zayn’s own words and actions that made him run away as soon as he realized he was in love. “You told me being in a relationship was stupid. You told me love was a nuisance. You… you told me you were happy you never fell in love and that you wanted someone to kill you the day you even thought about committing to someone or being in a monogamous relationship.” Liam could remember the words perfectly. “You told me you didn’t care if I dated or fucked other men as long as I didn’t do it in your presence. You said… I told you I had a date and you didn’t even blink, you…” Nothing made sense in Liam’s head. “You… You really want me to keep having sex with you even when it means nothing to you and it means the world to me? It hurts! I can’t do this anymore, okay? Please let me go.” Liam blinked faster but it was too late, the tears started falling anyways. How could Zayn be suggesting being in love was not enough reason to leave?

“What the fuck?!” Zayn’s voice grew louder, his hands flying to his head to grab his own hair. “Are you being serious right now?” he asked, looking at Liam. “Can’t you even see me? I’m right in front of you, fuck, and you can’t even see…” Zayn looked on the verge of tears too, and Liam was so confused he was dizzy. “What kind of monster do you think I am? Do you really think I’m… what? Incapable of love? A heartless beast? How can you love me if you think that?” Zayn was yelling louder and louder, frustrated, pacing back and forth between the night table and his closet.

“But you said…” Liam didn’t even finish his sentence, didn’t even get to remind Zayn all the words he told him from the beginning about love and relationships, about how meaningless sex was the only way to go, how monogamy was sad and pathetic.

Zayn stopped his pacing to march towards him, fuming. “I know what I said!” he blurted out, getting right in Liam’s personal space, so close, so so close. “I know exactly what I said and I wish I could travel back in time just to grab all those stupid words and shove them up my own ass, because I had no idea what was gonna happen! Had no idea you were going to ruin everything!” he accused, jabbing a finger into Liam’s chest.

Liam stumbled back a few steps until he bumped into a wall. He stood there, frozen, confused. What the hell was Zayn accusing him of? He knew falling in love meant ruining everything, but Zayn wasn’t supposed to give a fuck about that. The only one that was supposed to end up with a sad face, hugging a bottle of booze was himself. Nothing made sense.

“What are you saying? What did I do?” Liam asked, his voice small and cautious.

Zayn rolled his eyes, frustrated. “You have no idea, do you?” Zayn asked, shaking his head. “You wanna know how many guys I fucked even twice in my life? I can count them with the fingers on one hand, and most of those second times only happened because I forgot about the first one. You wanna know how many men I actually chased? How many times I actually insisted more than a few hours before getting bored and looking for something else? Only one. You wanna know how many people I touched since I met you? Guess. Fucking guess.”

Liam stopped breathing. He was trying to do the math, he was trying to process the information Zayn was throwing at him. He was trying to process the fact that they’d been fucking nonstop, again and again and again for four months. That was a lot more than twice. He was trying to process the fact that Zayn insisted for an entire month. An entire month of seductive looks and dirty words and wonderful promises. Not hours. A month. He was trying to process the fact that his entire being wanted that last number to be one. Only one. Only him.

“What… what are you saying?” he repeated the question, he had to. He was having an incredibly hard time simply believing what was happening. He spent so much time trying to convince himself that this was impossible that it was the only version of the facts his brain was accepting. This wasn’t happening.

Zayn rolled his eyes again and finally took a few steps back, throwing his arms in the air, defeated. “You’re so fucking blind, it’s unbelievable…” he complained.

“I just don’t get it! What the fuck does that mean?” Liam was the one yelling this time, this was too frustrating and he was tired, tired of hurting, tired of second guessing everything, tired of being wrong about everything, tired of getting his hopes up in vain every time, tired of being accused of things he didn’t even understand, things he had no control over. He just needed to understand.

Zayn advanced again, ending up just inches from Liam, forcing him to see his face up close. There were tears in those beautiful eyes, there was sadness, there were so many things Liam had never seen, and before he could even ask again, Zayn replied. “Oh my god, Liam, it means I fell in love with you too, you moron!” Zayn yelled, and all of a sudden, everything went quiet, the words echoing in Liam’s brain.

None of them spoke. Liam looked away from Zayn’s eyes. He needed to think. He was too busy trying not to die from the shock, trying to assimilate the words he just heard, the words he thought he was never going to hear, not from those lips, but he had to think. He replayed their story in his mind, right from the beginning, trying to find evidence, trying to pinpoint the exact moment when this happened and trying to figure out why the hell he didn’t see it. God, he’d truly been blind, too terrified about mixing feelings with the sex, too focused on not losing himself, on avoiding the unavoidable. He forced his brain to see things through that filter, through the no-feelings filter. Every one of those late night conversations were just Zayn passing the time for him. Every tender touch, every night spent sleeping in Zayn’s arms, every moment shared, he had been so sure it meant nothing, it was just Zayn humoring him, playing along… Never in a million years he thought… Oh god, Zayn actually felt those things. He did them because he wanted to do them, because… Because they both fell in love. Because that’s what Liam ruined. That’s what they both ruined. The easiness of no strings attached sex.

After what felt like an eternity, Liam came to two conclusions. He had to do something about this, and he had already decided what that something was.

It was like cleaning a foggy glass. When Liam looked up at Zayn again, it was like finally seeing all those things Zayn accused him of being too blind to see. He found so many unspoken things in Zayn’s expressive eyes he felt like crying again. He saw sadness, he saw fear, he saw love and want and future and home, he saw a million questions and he knew he had the answer to all of them. He also knew he didn’t need any words. He pushed away from the world, colliding with Zayn’s body, he tangled one of his hand in his hair, the other grabbing Zayn’s shirt, and he kissed him. He kissed him for those thirty-seven days and eight hours, he kissed him for those otherworldly four months, he kissed him for those four weeks he insisted, and he kissed him for every single day to come.


End file.
